Kakheti – The Leftover Pictures – Part II, Outtakes Etc.

I like it.

Crazy Holidays in Sighnaghi. I think this bus belonged to an American tour group I'd seen walking around town. I liked the travel agency's motto; reminded me of a travel agency I'd seen in Berlin once, called "Lucifer Reisen", with a motto added underneath: "Teuflisch Gut!"

Jeff.

Jeff resting on our way to Sighnaghi.

Nata.

Nata.

Khatuna & sunflower seeds drying.

Khatuna & sunflower seeds drying.

Driving through one of the towns trying to find the oil fields—I think this was Dedoplistskaro—stopping to ask directions.  Nata was starting to get tired of asking people where the oil was, so Jeff would stop near some people by the side of the street and call out brightly, in his lilting Irish accent, “Hallo fellas!  Say, d’ya know where the oil around here is, boys?”  At which Nata felt compelled to intervene and ask politely in Georgian.  Here we stopped by some men raking a large patch of sunflower seeds drying on the asphalt.

Khatuna & I at dinner, Sighnaghi.

Khatuna & I at dinner, Sighnaghi. The moon seemed a great deal bigger than it does in the picture.

Khatuna.

Khatuna. We found this old carriage just outside the museum in the center of town as we were walking around after dinner, and decided to take a picture...

Bad boys...

...as soon as Khatuna got down, these two boys jumped in, pulled the retractable roof up, and lit up a couple of cigarettes. They couldn't have been more than 8 or 9.

At the hotel.

At the hotel.

At the cafe in Sighnaghi.

At a cafe---the "Golden Lion", I think---in Sighnaghi. Khatuna adding our bit to the countless inscriptions covering the white plaster walls.

Khatuna & her papakhi.

There was a nice old papakhi lying around, so we tried it on and took some pictures. It was a good deal cleaner than mine, which still smells mildly of mutton. It was also a lot softer than mine---the sheepskin has hardened into a wooden shell that I can't seem to soften.

Khatuna on the ramparts.

Khatuna on the ramparts.

Artisan's courtyard; notice the little portrait of...

Walking around town we passed this courtyard strewn with bits of metal, pots and pans, old-fashioned metal stoves in various states of construction, belonging to an artisan of some kind. Notice the little portrait inside up on the right...

...Stalin!

...of Stalin!

Khatuna on the terrace of the guesthouse.

Khatuna on the terrace of the guesthouse watching the sunset.

Our host helping us prepare mtsvadi.

Our host helping us prepare mtsvadi. We put the pork into this bowl, seasoned it and added an onion or two, and let it steep while we walked to Nino's Spring. The hostess was great; she offered us a liter bottle of their local wine for a few lari, but we declined, whereupon she filled a half-liter bottle and insisted we take it with us.

Resting on the way to Bodbe.

Resting on the way to Bodbe.

On the way to Bodbe.

On the way to Bodbe.

Khatuna in Sighnaghi.

Khatuna in Sighnaghi.

Dinner in Sighnaghi.

Dinner in Sighnaghi.

I think this was in Sagarejo...

I think this was in Sagarejo...

Cafe in Sagarejo.

Cafe in Sagarejo.

Wasn't much to see there, so we hung out and had coffee before going back to Sighnaghi.

Wasn't much to see in Sagarejo, so we hung out and had coffee before going back to Sighnaghi.

Little Keto.

Little Keto.

Inside Ilya Chavchavadze's house.

Inside Ilya Chavchavadze's house.

Khatuna hiding...

Khatuna hiding in the citadel in Gremi.

At Gremi.

At Gremi.

Looking down at Khatuna through the calling-hole in the floor, Gremi.

Looking down at Khatuna through the calling-hole in the floor, Gremi.

Power lines in Telavi.

Power lines in Telavi.

Checking out the Marani in Gremi.

Checking out the Marani in Gremi.

Sleepy and tipsy after our visit to Badagoni...

I think this was after our wine-tasting visit to Badagoni...

A great vacation!

A great vacation!

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